Busboy

Not a restaurant, but the Sunday morning market at Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is pretty legendary and, this time of year, will likely be stocked with cheeses, preserved meats and other local treats, and substantially less crowded than in the summer. Go early to beat the rush.

Too much lobster? That's like too much garlic or too much good red wine: theoretically possible in laboratory conditions, but extremely unlikeley under normal conditions. I have never made bisque, but I always thought a lobster stock was at the heart of it - that it was a way of turning lobster shells and a relatively small amount of meat into something very tasty. Expensive and inconveniet if you don't have extra shells lying around -- guess you'll have to steam up a couple this weekend, but I'm sure you can sacrifice for your family . You might google around and see what turns up, but I'd go for it.

You've put me in a grumpy mood (at least until I get my coffee) because I wanted to recommend Madeleine Kamman's When French Women Cook as a wondeerful introduction to a variety of regional cuisines, but now I can't find my copy. And I had sworn to cook through it this winter. Oh, well -- it will turn up. The book is a series recollections from Kamman's childhood and young womanhood, each framed by the region in which she was staying and the woman who was the cooking for or with her at the time. Each chapter evokes extraordinary images of gathering cockles on the Breton Coast or mushrooming ion Normandy, and old farm houses with vast fireplaces that produce warm civets on cold Savoyard evenings, and a series of recipes from the region. Even those of us who may be a little weary of gauzy meomories' of chefs' childhoods are likely to get caught up. And the recipes, while not "holiday" in in particular, tend towards the hearty and warm - perfect for the season. (Time for me to find the book and make the rillets agian). The LaRousse Gastronomique, well worth owning regardless, also has a headline description of the specialties of most French regions, including those not popular enough to have their own cookbooks available at the Barnes and Noble; often you can track the actual recipes down elsewhere in the book. "Poitou...the cattle raised in Parthenay and Bressuire provide excellent meat...anong the typical local dishes is potee a la tete de porc , which furnishes both a soup and the main course: the pigs head is cut into pieces and eaten with sea salt and a dash of vinegar [sounds like Christmas Dinner to me!] ...the cotriade, a kind of bouillabaisse....notable sweets and pastries include the tourteau fromage...a selection of non-vintage local wines..."

If you screw it up (and you won't - think positively) bottled clam broth can always be used; just reduce the salt in your recipe., assuming the bottled broth is over the top in saline solution. Busboy: Fennel sounds very nice! Might work very well since the end product she's looking for is a lobster bisque, and lobster and fennel sounds like an Aces combination. As a general rule, though, I like to keep the fish stock simple and add the flavors I want to the finished product. ← Well, I just went through a bunch of cookbooks -- including Kellers TFLC, which has no fish stock recipe at all-- and can't find a single recipe for fish stock with fennel, so I may be ahllunicating. Or maybe I just a creative moment. As an aside, at the DCeG dinner last night at Restaurant Eve, many of us had a lobster creme brulee, with steamed lobster and fennel on the side, the fennel ebing doctored up with a little sugar and, I believe, vanilla. You are correct, it is a fine combination.

Probably right that that recipe is more complex than necessary, but it was the best I could find with a lazy search. To your stripped down version, though, I'd definitly add white wine, and would be more likely to add fennel than celery, (though I have a strange fascination with fennel.) The bay leaf is key. The stuff freezes well, though I wouldn't leave it in the fridge for more than a day. Old fish stock is not pretty.

Is this a Monty Python or Wallace and Grommet reference?

I'm guessing that Toronto has a decent cheese shop or two. Wander in at a relatively slow time and tell the person behind the counter what you're in the mood for -- and don't be afraid to vague, they'll understand when you say "runny but not too stinky -- and they'll likey recommend their favorites and give you samples to choose from. And, if you drop in regularly, they'll remember and take care of you. If you have only had the grocery store stuff, a real triple-cream Brie will be a revelation. I like Tellegio quite a bit -- runny, with a rich, sour taste, but perhaps too stinky for a train ride. I don't know how wide their distribution is, but Humboldt Fog is a relatievly creamy American goat cheese that I've eaten quite a bit of, and anything sold by Sally Jackson, especially the sheep's milk sold wrapped in chestnut leaves, is good eating. And, always, gruyere.

It would be wonderful if Todd had a moment to remind us what wines he was pouring -- a true worldbeat wine service with stops in South Africa, California, Virginia, Hungary and France, if I recall. I confess to being unpersuaded by the Virginia sparkler, but have very fond memories of the ridiculously young Cabernet that was served with the lamb chop, and what seemed to be another young wine, the Tokai that was poured with the three pear desserts.

You may want to consider just making the stuff yourself. It's easier and less time-consuming to make than a beef stock, and the ingredients are cheap -- if you get to the Whole Foods fish counter before they throw their bones out. This recipe looks pretty good, though will yield a lifetime supply of fish stock -- I'd cut it in half, at least, and increase the wine-to-water ration. I seem to recall Keller putting fennel in his version, but I don't have the recipe in front of me. Otherwise, I don't know if I've ever seen fish stock for sale.

We definitely have the slow part down -- the stuff probably cooked more than five hours over the course of the weekend. I'm convinced it was the boiling.

Rocket City USA - home to the maternal half of the Busboy liniage. Unfortunately, in many decades of visiting Huntsville, I have never had a decent meal there that didn't involve Grandma's biscuits and fried chicken and Granpa's honey and "termaters." When I got older, there's be a tumbler of Old Crow with the other men out in the garage -- no drinking in front of the ladies, please. I'll e-mail the relatives and see if I can find anything, but it's tough. Most of the town has grown up since the 60's and a lot of charm has been lost as the strip malls were built.

After consulting with the missus, it appears that an inadvertant boil is the most likely suspect in the case of the inedible tails. We will certainly be trying the recipe -- or something silimar -- again, and will likely braise in the oven to avoid this problem. Thanks.

Yep. And I had thought that these church ladies, and the church 'covered dish suppers' might be the last bastion of great southern cooking. Sorry to hear that in your case anyway, even that is now being threatened. ← A few years back I worked on Jesse Jackson's presidential campaign, which relied heavily on the black church network for local support and sites for campaign events. Those church ladies dang near killed Jesse with the banquets they laid out after every stop, and he (and senior staff, not me) would have died happy. It seemed like every day there was another lesson on southern/soul food cooking and none of those church ladies would have dared to bring something store-bought. It would be ironic if y'all had to head up to Philly or New York City to get good chicken, corn bread and greens, but if you can't find anything closer, maybe you should consider a trip.

Ms. Busboy spent a good part of the weeking trying to make oxtails stew, and coming up with a delicious broth and inedibly tough tails. The recipe is here. We are experienced braisers, and are confident of our technique. Initial thoughts are 1) Frozen oxtails just cook up tough, 2) that, since the tails were not fully covered during the initial braising, (although more liquid than th recipe called for was added in an effort to mostly submerge the tail) they dried out beyond hope 3) Oxtails just suck. We are happy to hear any other suggestions experients tail-braisers may have. Along the same lines, the next adventure will be pig's tails prepared a la Fergus Henderson's The Whole Beast, Nose to Tail Eating (The nose part is also on the screen for the near future, anyone feeling adventurous should feel free to drop by). Has anyone tried this? Cooking tips and serving suggestions are welcome.

No, my question does not imply malicious intent, but yes, it does imply a concern about whether it's appropriate for a person to be posting negative comments. I want to know if this person has or is taking a discussion of a restaurant seriously and not just their gut or emotional response. Of course the level of existing discussion on a thread speaks volumes about that. I differ here in that I think that the "gut or emotional response" is valid, perhaps more valid than a "considered" response. It's more honest and more likely to reflect the true experience. Too much intospection leads to rationalizations and evasions. "Maybe it was me," "maybe they had an off night'" "maybe my date put me in a bad mood." It reminds me of those avant-guarde art exhibits where you have to read the manifesto before you "understand" the art. I think that if a restaurant, or a piece of art, fails on a visceral level, deeper consideration is pointless. (On the other hand, if it succeeds viscerally, then deeper thinking can add tremendous value.)

Adorable, Busboy! You didn't seem quite so tall in your posts! Or perhaps you have grown ... ← The camera adds 10 centimeters.

I find this approach troubling on two levels. First, it seems to assume malicious or inappropriate intent on the part of the negative poster: "Is this person concerned for me a prospective diner in that particular establishment, or are they adressing their own anger?" It holds those with negative comments to a higher standard than those who post positive reviews. Second, it over-intellectualizes what I think should be a visceral response. You go to dinner. You like it or you don't -- or it was OK. Dining is like love or lust, thinking too much about it never enhances the experience. You wake up in the morning smiling, or you don't. Pondering the details to flesh out the experience, to help you repeat it or to alert others is valuable. Questioning your own gut reaction is less so. Regarding eGullet, I won't go so far as to say that all opinions are equally valid, but I will say they should be equally welcome. I think what enhances this community is data. The web is a bad medium for precise calculation. It is a very effective net, however. The more people who weigh in on a subject, the more likely it is that something valuable will be added, or that the cumulative value of an individual thread will be enhanced. Let a thousand flowers bloom, trust the readers to pick the ones they want.

Right on Busboy. Do you feel your experience as a server predisposes you to feel charitable about poor service? Or having had the job are you more likely to get irritated when on the receiving end? I worked in customer service at the Kennedy Center for 9 years, smoothing the ruffled feathers of (in all likelihood) of the same folks who dine in the cities' better restaurants. That experience made me less inclined to pass over what I know to be the result of poor training or a bad attitude. ← For me, attitude counts for a lot. I can let sloppy service by someone who appears to care about me and my table pass, most of the time. I'd rather not work myself up and get in a bad mood. The level of the restaurant is important, too; you expect more of a 4-star than of a neighborhood place.

I once won a watch for guessing closest to the weight of a spare-tire sized round of Gruyere or Emmenthere (I forget which). I was folding laundry one morning when I caught a cooking show on TV in which home cooks competed for the title of MasterChef USA. Little Nora -- then 8 -- said "Daddy, you should enter." Well, what could I do. I created a menu, told a slightly edited story on myself involving Bernaise Sauce and a Parliament-Funkadelic show and mailed off the application. Surprisingly, I made the cut and went to New York for the preliminary, non-televised round. I called home to announce that I'd made it to the show, and my son said, "I knew you would." In many years of cooking for the kids, the encouragement to enter from my daughter and the nonchalant confidence of my son are damn near the only positive feedback I've ever gotten for my cooking from either of them. I was the last of the six (of twelve) to be announced, on the strength of my poached pear desert, I think, though the pork in whiskey buerre blanc was pretty swell, too. I went to LA and learned the word "trafe" (sp?) when I practiced my scallops with bacon and cream at a Jewish friend's apartment. I was eliminated in the first round, but I still have the Le Creuset pot I bought with my gift certificate from Williams and Sonoma, and I got my first food-writting byline after publishing a piece about it for the Washington Post. All-in-all a nice experience. Hangovers of the show exist here. I am in episode #207.

I don't believe the olive oil guy actually takes reservations, he didn't the night we ate there, but he told us to hang out and wait for the evening shift to begin and ask whoever opened the place up. My wife and I found a little cafe with a view of La Merenda's front door and ordered a demi-pichet of the local pink and waited until someone (who turned out to be our waiter, later) rolled up a scooter and opened the place up. I wandered over and scored us a table for the early (American ) seating -- we were jet-lagged -- paid for the pink and wandered around the vielle ville until it was time to eat. By the way, the olive oil guy has some damn good oil. Italian, though, and not French.

When I die, if I am good, I will go to Nice. This thread will give you a good start, I believe there are others with more updated info, as well. Be sure to eat the street food as well as the haute cusine. Have fun!

I believe the market is open Saturdays and Sundays -- just glanced at the hours as I walked in and I think it's only closed Mondays.

As long as Holly brings the necessary papers and passport he should do fine. Although do we really want just Al representing us? I second both of these recommendations. Market lunch at the Eastern Market is the best brunch in town. Make sure to check out the blueberry pancakes. You'll have to come back in the summer though, to try out the crabcakes. Puchina is right. Maine Avenue is as greasy as it gets. I'd also suggest a plate or two of oysters although they probably aren't from around here. Keep in mind that at this time of year it is car eating since the market is all outdoors. That is unless you like picnicing in 40 degree weather. ← just got back from Eastern Market and was thinking "why didn't anyone suggest the Market Lunch" and saw that HV beat me to the punch. Also stopped by the DC Farmers market -- part of the vast wholesale warehouse food conglomeration between Florida and New York Avenues which is well worth exploring in its own right -- and noticed a couple of likely looking soul food stands set up amongst the butchers and produce vendors. Annie's Sweet Potato Pie is the name that sticks in mind. The market is a large white brick building on Neal Place between 5th and 6th, towards the north side of the complex. The pupuseria is Pupuseria San Miguel, it's on the 3100 block of Mt. Pleasant. Half a block down, on Mt. Pleasant and Irving is Ercilia's, run by a Salvadoran woman who makes a fine tamale.

Holly -- if you decide to go pupusa-hunting in Mt. Pleasant, PM me and I'll show you around the 'hood. You can check out the weird Vietnamese snack-foods, too. Do not eat at the Raven. Not even the popcorn. ← I've always thought ben's to be vastly overrated, btw, though their chili dogs did stop my wife's premature labor one November midnight.

Holly -- if you decide to go pupusa-hunting in Mt. Pleasant, PM me and I'll show you around the 'hood. You can check out the weird Vietnamese snack-foods, too. Do not eat at the Raven. Not even the popcorn.